


Stay with him if you can, but be prepared to bleed

by vogue91



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Loss of Control, M/M, Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 11:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16407293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: “It could be fun, right, Yuri? Something different.”“I was thinking about Hikaru. It shouldn’t be too awkward with him, should it?”





	Stay with him if you can, but be prepared to bleed

 

All Yuri could hear inside that room, was moaning.

It echoed on the walls and inside his mind, and he had the weird feeling he wanted to keep them out instead.

He slowly got closer to Yuya and started kissing down his chest, the elder’s hand clawing the back of his head, pushing him lower still, impatient.

Not that Yuri meant to do anything different; he was anxious, on the contrary, to get back what he owned, before the discomfort was going to prevent him from doing anything at all. With a harsh motion of his hand he pushed Hikaru away and settled down between Yuya’s legs, where Yaotome had been before.

Hikaru arched an eyebrow, making as to say something, but in the end he seemed to cave.

He crawled up the mattress, stealing a deep kiss from Yuya’s mouth while Yuri watched.

He tried to ignore them as he leant further down on Takaki and started running his tongue on the elder’s cock, then taking it wholly in his mouth and waiting for a moan that was partially muffled by Hikaru’s lips.

He kept his eyes on them, on their tongue tangling and their hands searching for each other’s body, hungrily.

He felt like crying, but not like explaining the reason behind his tears; so he went on, doing everything he knew was going to drive Yuya crazy, finally managing to distract him from that kiss and that mouth, getting his attention once he took him even deeper, feeling Yuya’s hand grab his hair and pull, hard, the elder letting out a chocked sound at his movements.

Yuri wanted to smile to Hikaru, told him he had won, but he knew it would’ve been childish, all the more because he hadn't gotten enough yet.

And because that wasn’t supposed to be a battle in the first place, but it was nonetheless.

_“It could be fun, right, Yuri? Something different.”_

_“I was thinking about Hikaru. It shouldn’t be too awkward with him, should it?”_

Yuri had always known he wasn’t capable of denying anything to the elder, but this particular time he wished he was more than anything.

No, he wasn’t going to feel comfortable with Hikaru there.

No, he didn’t want to have sex with anyone except for Yuya, but he hadn't found the courage to tell him, because then he would’ve felt bad, perhaps even stupid, just cause he thought it was ridiculous to let someone he didn’t love touch him.

That was the point, and that was why he hadn't dared saying anything.

He knew there had been a time Yuya had wanted Hikaru, he knew there was something dormant between them. But before then, Yuri had never doubted he was the only one for Yuya.

Unwillingly, he had accepted.

And Hikaru was no idiot, and he had understood right away what the game was there, and had started competing with him; Chinen had no intention to let him win.

He pulled away before Yuya could climax, pulling up to straddle him ad kiss him, once again pushing Hikaru away, once again wishing his boyfriend would forget Hikaru was there, that he would touch him as he had been touching Yaotome, desire Yuri as if they were the only ones in bed.

“Yuu...” he murmured, barely pulling away from his mouth, propping himself up on his shoulders. “Take me, Yuu.” he asked, begging almost, trying to let him see how much he craved it, and at the same time trying to mask the fact that what he craved the most was to mark his territory right in front of Hikaru.

But Yaotome rained on his parade.

“Where would the fun be in that, Yuri?” he asked, falsely innocent, him being the one to push Yuri away this time and getting between Yuya’s leg, torturing his chest with his mouth, licking and biting, so fast that the elder couldn’t even react; it was as if he wanted to stop him, but his body prevented him from doing that.

Yuri kept kneeling on his side of the bed, staring at the scenery in front of him.

Yuya was so damn beautiful, underneath Hikaru’s hands.

He was beautiful with his head thrown back, his eyes clenched and a look of pure pleasure of his face while he panted slowly, as if he was one step away from heaven.

He had never seen him like that, he had never managed to lead him to that, and for the first time he felt inadequate.

He started wondering whether Yuya was truly happy with him; he had always thought he was the right person for him, and now he wondered if Hikaru couldn’t be that person instead, if he hadn't been selfish to believe Yuya could be satisfied with how things had turned out, just because it hurt too much to think about it.

He tried to get close again, while Yaotome started preparing Yuya.

There wasn’t much he could do.

He saw Yuya’s features marked by the discomfort given to that intrusion he wasn’t used to, and he brushed a hand over it, delicate, as if he wanted to soothe that slight pain, wanting to let him know he was there, that he didn’t want to be forgotten.

Yuya didn’t even seem to realize he was there.

He moaned, softly, and at the same time he pushed toward Hikaru’s hand, asking for more.

Sex, Chinen realized, was the art of controlling the lack of control; and he didn’t have any control over Yuya right now, he didn’t have any control over his feelings and what was happing, nor he had his hands on him telling him it was going to be okay soon, that he was going to forget that grip around his heart, that he was going to make him forget even his own name, because that moment belonged to them and no one else.

Sex was the art of controlling the lack of control, but Yuri wasn’t a part of this, and he didn’t have control, and he wasn’t having sex either.

And he didn’t have Yuya, because the elder wasn’t there with him right now.

He was under Hikaru’s hands, he was lost in the pleasure Hikaru was giving him now, and Yuri couldn’t find room in that picture, which looked natural in such an unreal way.

When Hikaru turned him around Takaki opened his eyes, and only then Yuri got a chance to look at him, and it hurt even more than he could imagine.

Yaotome thrust inside of him and Chinen finally saw them both satisfied, and it was the last straw.

He sat in front of Yuya and clashed their lips together, almost violent, tired of being ignored, wanting to give him something he couldn’t oversee, asking for that part of attentions he had been denied.

“Touch me, Yuya.” he asked, almost desperate. “Touch me.” he repeated, bringing his hand to his boyfriend’s, realizing for the first time how his own was so small in comparison to Yuya’s.

Takaki didn’t do anything.

He looked at him for a moment, then he went back pushing against Hikaru, moaning, almost screaming his satisfaction.

Yuri got off the bed, slowly.

He kept watching them, a last glimpse of a show he wasn’t part of anymore.

He pressed himself against the wall and slipped on the floor.

He saw them move together, surprised at how synchronized their movements were, as if it was rehearsed; shocked at how right it looked.

He saw them come and collapse on the bed, the sheets tangled around their legs, their limbs tangled around each other.

Sex was the art of controlling the lack of control, and perhaps Yuri had never had that control, not with Yuya.

Hikaru had stolen more moans from Yuya than he had ever heard. He had made him feel good, and now Yuya was smiling, happy, unaware of his presence in that forgotten corner of their bedroom.

And Yuri was fine with that.

He couldn’t own something he couldn’t control.

He couldn’t own someone, if he couldn’t make them happy.

He loved Yuya.

He loved him enough to leave him be there, in that picture where he looked more beautiful than he had even seen him.

He loved him enough to want him to be happy, even though he wasn’t a part of that happiness.


End file.
